Welcome to the House!
by Masterpwn
Summary: Multiple people who have never met each other are selected by a secret organization for unknown reasons and forced to survive in the most terrible place they have ever been in full of traps and monsters. It will take their best to stay alive and find out the truth, but the house will try everything to kill them. Is escape even possible? Will anyone even survive this? AU-Human
1. Introducing Our Newest Contestants!

**Welcome to the House! Introducing our newest contestants!**

A voice startles everyone in the room from a light slumber. They begin to get up.

**We have, John "The Doctor" Smith!**

A man in a leather jacket rises up from the ground, wondering how in the hell he got there. He looks around and sees a multitude of other equally confused looking people getting up. A bright light enshrouds him for a moment, high-lighting him as his presence is announced. It fades and the voice continues.

**We have, James McCrimmon!**

Another man, wearing a brown pin-stripe suit stands as well. Readjusting a magnificent sweeping duster, he looks at the people who are joining him on his two feet. He squints through the light shined in his face, blocking him from examining his surroundings.

**We have, shrouded in mystery, "The Caretaker"!**

Straightening his bow tie and brushing dust off of his tweed jacket, he scans the area. It's very dark and he can't see farther than the group of people around him. There's a plush carpet beneath him. He's particularly unfazed by the light blasted in his face.

**We have, the "Bad Wolf" Rose Tyler!**

The blonde woman covers her ears as the announcer's voice booms overhead. She's got bad enough of a headache as it is without the noise and light.

**We have, Martha Jones!**

The beautiful dark-skinned woman cringes in annoyance as the loud voice exaggerates the 'o' in her last name, making it unnecessarily long. She squints as her eyes are afflicted by the rapid changes in brightness.

**We have, Donna Noble!**

The red-head hates the way he changes the tone in his voice up and down as he says her name. In one of those rare moments, she keeps her mouth shut, listening as the rest of the group are introduced.

**We have, Amelia Pond!**

The Scottish woman with the flaming hair and attitude doesn't stay quiet, especially since the 'o' in her name is stupidly exaggerated too. "It's Amy whoever you are!" she yells. Her voice is ignored.

**We have, Rory Williams!**

The mild mannered nurse cringes too. Apparently fueled by Amy's outburst, the strange voice holds out every single vowel in his name.

**We have, River Song!**

The magnificent, bushy curls of her hair bounce about as she shakes her head and scowls The disembodied voice really has a thing for holding out the o's.

**And, last but not least, we have the Impossible Clara Oswald!**

The petite brunette seems to be the sole exception to o stretching, since it was clipped short in an attempt to start the s faster, but the voice held onto all the a's desperately instead, so it wasn't a positive trade off. Finally the light illuminating her stops, and her eyes begin adjusting to the dark once more.

Turns out she doesn't need to. The voice is silent for a moment as all the lights snap on, revealing a rather extravagant room. Everyone stops examining each other to look about the room in varied degrees of annoyance, awe, curiosity, boredom, and/or displeasure. Only the woman whom the voice called "River Song" truly looks bored. Like she's snatched from normal life and dropped into unknown places all the time.

**We all knows the rules, but our contestants might not! So let me explain.**

They all stop looking around and pay absolute attention.

**Your one and only rule: Survive.**

The whole group becomes concerned at this statement, but very few of them show it. River still looks bored.

**From what, you will find out. There may be monsters, there may be traps, you may have to fear your very rivals in this room. Only time will tell, but this much is certain, ten will enter and only one will leave. Good luck contestants, for the House is already plotting your deaths.**

The ten people look at each other, not saying a word, as the very building wakes up around them.

—

"Well," begins one James McCrimmon loudly, getting everyone's attention, "Might as well get to know each other better than just our names, as it seems we are stuck in a very dangerous situation."

Rose tentatively moves towards a long table in the center of the room. Around it are ten chairs and a meal is piled high on silver plates. She finds a place and sits. "Join me?" she asks the group.

Grudgingly, they move to join her. There's a brief test of wills between the "Caretaker" and John between the chair at the head of the table since the one on the other side was immediately taken by River. Eventually, John wins out and sits, Caretaker taking the seat on his right. Rose is sitting on his left, and the rest of the group picks out their spots at random.

After an uncomfortable silence, Clara speaks up. "Think the food's safe?"

"Good question," says John.

The Caretaker grabs an apple and turns it over in his hands. He carefully examines its surface, sniffs it, and pokes it several times. Then he takes a bite, slowly chewing and swallowing. "Well, if I wind up dead, then you'll know," he says without concern in his voice.

"That... That is..." Martha, being appalled by his blatant disregard for his welfare, finds herself at a loss for words.

Rory sort of sticks his hand in the air. "I'm a nurse, so I might be able to help," he pauses for a moment. "I'd need some equipment though."

Martha glances up. "I'm a doctor," she says, then looks at Rory. "Not trying to outdo you or anything."

Rory shakes his head. "It's fine, we'll work well together then."

She nods, then turns to John. "You were introduced as the Doctor, would you actually happen to be one?"

"PhD, but not in medicine," he replies.

Martha looks around the table. "May seem silly, but what are your professions?" she asks.

James pipes up. "Same as him," he says, nodding to John, "PhD in astrophysics, science things of that sort."

Rose looks around slightly sheepishly. "I work in a shop."

"Not the only one without a Doctorate, I'm just a temp," Donna states without enthusiasm.

"Schoolteacher," says Clara.

They look at River.

She doesn't speak for a while. "Professor Song, archeology," she finally says.

The Caretaker cocks his head. "Didn't you do that one dig near Cairo, discovered a hidden tomb or something?"

She smiles. "Yes. 842 sarcophagi, very few in tact though. A lot of them were simply wood, nearly 300 of them were animals as well. Only found 23 human that weren't rotted or destroyed in some way. Water tower of some date farmer had been leaking into the tunnels for years."

He nods. "Still impressive."

She shrugs. "They were Romans, hardly so."

Rory makes a sound of indignation. "Nothing wrong with Romans. They were a powerful empire."

She smirks. "Should've stayed out of Egypt."

He scowls, but doesn't argue further.

They turn to Amy expectingly.

She rolls her eyes. "Kissogram."

Nobody seems fazed in any degree, so she shrugs.

"And you?" asks Martha, looking to the man in the tweed jacket.

He just shakes his head and remains silent.

"Blimey," starts Rose, "Really playing up the 'mystery', aren't we?"

He smiles and continues his silence.

James speaks next. "So, something rather pressing, anyone have any idea about our current situation?"

"Well, I was just working really. Helping a customer then... then just this," says Rose, confusion on her face and in her voice.

Rory chimes in. "Just working too, don't remember how I got here."

Everyone gives similar answers.

"Anyone have any idea as to what to do next?"

A chorus of "no"s and the shaking of heads is the unfortunate reply from everyone but River, the Caretaker, John, and James, who asked the question to begin with.

He nods. "In that case, maybe we should just investigate our surroundings. Stick together."

River gets up, ignores his advice, and stalks towards the nearest exit, an old wooden door that looks as though it might lead to a basement, making this the ground floor. Stairs lead upwards from the next room over, so it must be a multi-story house though.

John rises. "I'm going to the next room over, it looks like a mud room. Anyone with me?"

Rose stands as well. She looks around but everyone else seems hesitant. John starts towards the archway leading to the entrance hall wordlessly and Rose quickly follows.

James rises next. "Wait a moment."

John pauses, giving Rose time to catch up.

"We'll all meet back here soon, got a watch?"

"Yes," replies John.

The Caretaker holds up his arm in response, showing off a very expensive looking piece.

"Meet here in an hour?"

"Fine," replies John curtly. "Coming Rose?"

She moves up next to him. "Yeah, right behind you."

They exit.

Martha stands and moves around the table to join him. "I'll stick by you then."

Donna follows her example. "Me too Spaceman."

"Spaceman?" he says, a priceless look of confusion and indignation on his face.

"Yeah," she replies, "All the astro stuff. That's got to do with space, right?"

He nods slowly. "Yeah, but you don't need to call me spaceman."

"Well, you look like a Martian with your hair all over the place."

"Spaceman it is," he says with a resigned sigh. "Let's head up those stairs in the next room over."

He leaves and they follow.

"Just us left then," states Amy as she gets up.

Rory stands up and pushes his chair in behind him.

The Caretaker doesn't want to pair up with anyone, alone is better, but the four of them are all that's left.

Clara, Amy, Rory, and he follow the previous three to head up the stairs.

As they make it to the next room, Clara stops by John and Rose.

"Should I stay with you guys? So every group has three?" she asks.

Rose was about to say what a good idea that would be when John interrupts.

"No, we're fine," he moves up next to Rose, standing a little closer than absolutely necessary. "Better with two."

Clara nods, not wanting to cross him. The man looks as though he's stormed the gates of hell and destroyed it all. Devil, demons, and everything. She moves up the stairs, right after Rory.

Rose turns to John. He simply turns his head, piercing blue eyes locking to hers.

She gives him a tongue-in-teeth smile. "Better with two?" she asks curiously.

He turns away, but not before she catches the hint of a smile.

—

The stairs are plush, soaking up every sound, a red velvet carpet covers dark wood which is polished to shine under the bright light from the electric chandeliers. The the three of them ascend soundlessly, turning right when the wide path splits in a T, and continue up the narrower set as the four behind them turn left. It's irrelevant which way one turns going up however, because everything on the second floor seems connected by the circular balcony around the chandelier that illuminates both floors. On the side, shelves cover every inch of wall-space and are crammed full of books of all sizes and colours.

The rails around the circle in the floor are the same polished dark wood. The elegant wood paneling of the same shade runs halfway up the walls before giving way to mahogany wall paper covered in patterns. The two are separated by a long strip of lighter coloured wood and the quarter rounds are extravagantly patterned. The lighting perfectly accents everything. A cushion covered bench fills a nook under a window. James goes up to the window but can see nothing but blackness outside.

The group off four climb another flight only accessible from that side and disappear from view. Donna and Martha spread out among the floor, looking around the shelves and over and under tables. Counter tops along the walls of the other side of the room are adorned with a selection of foods and alcoholic beverages of many kinds. Wine, scotch, vodka, whiskey, you name it, it was on tables, counters, and racks along with many fine crystal glasses. Some bottles had dust on them, others were more recent. The food, mostly cheeses and breads, looked fresh, and several coolers of ice are sitting on the floor.

He turns his attention back to the window. It seems that the window isn't just dark because it's night out, it's pitch black. Like it was spray painted over.

Suddenly, the whole house groans and creaks as if it was battered by strong winds. John keeps his eyes locked on the window, and for a moment something flashes in it. Something like a face, but too quick to be certain. He turns away to find Donna and Martha looking all around. Just as suddenly as it began, the the house stops making noise.

They hear a short scream from downstairs, and the three of them lock eyes for only a moment before they all rush for the stairs.

—

River did not feel like being part of a group, she didn't feel like sharing. What she did feel though, was the urge to find a gun, so she went off by herself to find a weapon. The old door did lead to a basement, as she had expected. She also expected no one would follow her down here because of the "terrible danger" they all seemed to be in, and who would want to be in a creepy basement full of monsters? River is used to dank and dark underground places, and nothing down here bothers her.

Rather than electrical lighting, small blazing torches are in sconces along the wall. The flickering cast strange shadows over the crates, barrels, shelves, and other sorts of things for storage. Rolled up carpets lean against support beams. The occasional oil lamp hangs from the rafters. Someone must've been down here recently, otherwise none of these would be lit.

She begins popping tops off of barrels and crates as well as glancing over the shelves. She finds silverware, salted meat still lying among the white-ish grains, fresh vegetables, canned food, a box of tools. Endless useless baubles and junk. She finds a crude machete and claims it at once. It is a bit dull, so she grabs a nearby iron tool to sharpen it on.

She hears a grand creaking from above, whatever it is, it must be loud. All the torches flicker in a short breeze. There must be an exterior cellar door. Excited with the prospect and a newly sharpened weapon, she moves again as the noise from above stops to find a way out.

—

The group of four climbs the second set of stairs. The case opens up into a hallway that ends in a large black window which would be above the main entrance. It's decorated with chairs and an end table with a clay pot of flowers and an empty silver bowl. The hallway splits in a cross shape and Rory and Amy go right while the Caretaker and Clara go left.

"Is there something else I can call you?" asks Clara. "The Caretaker is going to get annoying."

He's quiet for a moment. "Theta. Call me Theta."

Clara cocks her head ever so slightly. "Unusual."

"That was my nickname back in the Gallifrey Academy. Theta Sigma."

She nods. "Theta it is. Gallifrey Academy though... Is that in Ireland?"

"Something like that," he says as he opens a door on their right, revealing a dusty, cobweb filled room with spare furniture. He closes it again.

She opens the opposite door to reveal a large room full of...

"Bunk beds!" cries Theta gleefully.

All the sheets are fine silk, elaborately decorated with gold trim, but the five bunk beds are still bunk beds.

"Really?" she asks dubiously.

He flings himself upon a bottom bunk. "Bunk beds are cool, Clara Oswald."

Suddenly a scream is heard from downstairs and he hops up and rushes from the room, Clara right behind him. They meet the other two in the hall and they turn to rush down the stairs.

—

The first thing John notices upon walking into the room was the fact that where a door once was, a solid wall of bare red bricks has taken its place. Rose walks up beside him and sighs in exasperation. The archway opposite the one they just came from appears to enter into a sitting room, as plush and royal looking seating as well as a grand marble fireplace claims the majority of the room.

"Now what?" asks Rose in annoyance.

"Let's keep looking around," he says, equally irked.

The two groups pass by them and they both move past the grand staircase and through the arch into the sitting room.

Shelves of books line free wall-space. John moves over the them and begins examining the spines.

"Some advanced reading here," he announces. He runs his fingers over a particular title, _Handbook of Space Astronomy and Astrophysics_. He's always been interested in these kinds of things, but pursued a career in history and became a professor of it at a university.

He turns to Rose when she she makes a pleased "ooh" sound. She was currently holding a battered copy of _Oliver Twist_ in her hands.

He smiled. "Fan of Dickens?"

She nods wordlessly, flipping through the first few pages.

"I'm his biggest fan," he announces with a grin.

Rose moves over to a free space and leans against a wall. A wall that quickly fell back and dumped Rose into darkness with a scream that was quickly cut off.

John dives forward in a futile attempt to keep her from falling.

"Rose!" he cries as the wall slaps shut again. He cautiously approaches the space where she disappeared, and nothing happens. He pushes on the wall and a collection of swift footsteps come rushing down the stairs and into the room he's in.

"What happened?" cries Martha.

"Rose... She just- the wall- the..." he takes a deep breath. "The wall opened up and she fell back," he gives the wall another shove and kicks it for good measure, hard enough to feel it through his sturdy boots. "It won't open again!" he yells in anger.

James moves forward to try gingerly stepping on floorboards and pushing certain planks on the wall. Then he pulls back. "I got nothing."

Clara looks to the Caretaker. "Can you figure something out Theta?"

People express silently confusion at his new title, but he carries on without caring.

He glares at empty space for a moment while he speaks. "What was she doing before she disappeared?"

"She leaned on the wall with a book."

He moves over and grabs a book before returning to the wall. He waves. "Wish me luck," he says jovially and leans against the wall. There's a pause in which he just stands there, shoulder against it, and everyone's relieved. Then the wall splits and he half falls, half jumps into the dark. The wall snaps shut behind him before anyone can react.

There's a moment of silence.

"That's two down." A voice behind them snaps them out of their reverie.

They all turn around to see River standing there, a machete hanging at her hip, leaning against the frame of the arch.

He shrugs her shoulders. "A shame, he was a real pretty boy."


	2. Cheesy Haunted House

He lands awkwardly on a steep metal chute, possibly injuring his ankle, and practically flies down it.

"Wheee!" he calls out into nothingness.

He hadn't expected the fall to be so steep. After a few seconds, the slide evens out until it's nearly horizontal and then he flies off the end, landing hard on cold stone. He gets up, ignoring the throbbing of his ankle and shoulder, and looks around. He can see nothing.

"Rose?" he calls into the dark.

A small single note whimper responds.

"That you?" he asks softly.

Finally a quiet, "Yeah," reaches him.

"Keep talking, are you hurt?"

She starts mumbling. "I think so. I mean, I didn't expect it," she pauses. "Slid down head first. I'm really dizzy, I think I hit my head."

The Doctor locates the source of the sound and kneels down. She seems to be leaning against a wall in the corner.

He reaches out and comes in contact with her arm. It's sticky.

She sharply inhales and he swiftly withdrawals his hand.

This time she reaches out, he feels the tips of her fingers against his chest and he scoots forward. Eventually he winds up sitting next to her.

"Can you walk?" he asks gently.

"I don't know."

He considers this. "We'll sit here for a while then."

"Yeah," she says. A pause follows, then she lays her head on his shoulder. "Did you get hurt falling?"

"No," he lies, ignoring the throbbing of his ankle. It may be sprained.

"You sure?"

He smiles somewhat. "It was a bit of a rough landing, but you worry about you." He feels her nod.

Normally he wouldn't care for anyone. He lost faith in humanity a long time ago, when he lost everything. Something about her though made him toss aside everything he recently stood for and jump in to help her. Sure, he did it in his normal reckless way, but he did it all the same.

He wonders about something. "Why are you called Bad Wolf?"

She stiffens imperceptibly. The truth is her father runs a top secret organization and that's her code name. "A co-worker gave me that nick-name," she says. This too is mostly true, it was suggested by her good friend Mickey Smith, but it was first turned down by command. Later she insisted because she really liked it, so it stuck. What she doesn't understand is how whoever trapped her there knows her code name. She prays to everything that it isn't Torchwood that's done this. One thing she can't do is give away the fact that she's received serious military grade training, despite her mother's protests of course.

"Interesting."

"Why the Caretaker?" she asks.

"Wouldn't be mysterious if I explained everything."

She nods slowly, a curious smile on her face.

"You can call me Theta if you like."

"Sounds just as mysterious as 'the Caretaker'," she says, voice low, "But possibly less silly."

He smiles. "Little easier to say too, apparently."

"Just a bit."

He shifts slightly, dropping the smile from his face. His eyes have adjusted somewhat and he thinks he sees a door. "Think you can walk now?"

She gives herself a mental check over. Most of the pain has subsided. "Yeah."

He gets up and helps her stand. Wrapping his left arm protectively around her waist, he slowly guides her towards the outline of the hopefully-a-door, hiding his limp very well. He stumbles over something and hisses sharply in pain. He looks down and sees a copy of... He squints. _IOliver Twist/I_. He tripped over some Charles Dickens.

"You are hurt!" she scolds.

"Just surprised is all," he lies again, "Tripped over the book you dropped."

She scowls, unbeknownst to him.

Reaching out, he grasps a metal ring hanging where the doorknob should have been and yanks the door open. It opens only partway before the rotted wood disintegrates. Dim light is now spilling into the room and Rose leans on the wall while he forces the door open. Mostly it falls apart in his hands. Finally it's able to be passed and he helps her out of the room.

-(BREAK)-

The group stares at the wall which they disappeared into. The house suddenly shifts, wood creaking and the sound of stone grinding on stone meets their ears. The space behind the panels is filled, and the noise stops. John steps forward and knocks on the wood. It no longer sounds hollow.

"Solid," he says dejectedly.

"Is the house alive?" Amy asks no one in particular.

Rory shakes his head. "Ummm, how can a house be alive?"

"There's got to be a logical explanation. Maybe the person who put us here can shift parts of the building around us. Something mechanical, yeah?" Martha puts her idea out there, but it does little to comfort anyone.

James spins around. "That seems highly likely, just things being remotely controlled."

John taps his foot in frustration. "What about Rose?" he demands, his petulant northern accent standing out.

Donna looks to River. "Didn't you go down into that basement?"

She nods slowly.

"Is there a way down to wherever they fell?" she asks.

"How should I know?"

This response starts a scowl fest between several people. After about a minute of this, Clara breaks the silence.

"What are we going to do?"

River snorts in a very un-lady like way. "If the people who control this place are trying to kill us, it's best to assume they just died. My advice? Keep going," she pauses while everyone stares at her angrily. "And watch your back." She stalks off.

"Weeell," Amy says, "Drama queen much?"

She hadn't noticed that Rory was slowly scooting closer to her.

John, however, notices this and smirks. Then he moves off after River towards the basement.

Clara shakes her head to clear it. "I'm going upstairs to lie down," she announces, and proceeds to do so.

"Same," says Amy, following Clara.

Martha follows quickly after, but Rory just stands there awkwardly, feeling the need to help Rose. Eventually, he goes after John to the basement.

Donna looks over to James. "Just leaves me and you Spaceman."

He closes his eyes, slightly frustrated about his newly appointed nickname. "Yeah."

She grabs him by the sleeve and pulls him along.

"Oi!" he yelps, "What are you doing?"

"Found something upstairs that was interesting earlier."

He shakes her off his sleeve and follows her up the to the second floor.

-(BREAK)-

"Are you following me?" asks River, turning around to see John stomping around grumpily.

"No, we just happen to be walking in the same direction."

She looks him up and down. "Well, I don't mind if you follow me."

His scowl deepens and he storms past her just as loudly as he was doing before. He gives the basement door a tug. It doesn't budge. He tries pushing it and it gives way and he tramps down into the darkness. River moves after him, not bothering to close the door.

"Find your machete down here?" he asks.

"Yes."

He looks over the shelves, slowing down as he passes by.

"Heard some wind blowing through here earlier. Felt it a bit too, I'm thinking there must be a cellar chute somewhere that will lead outside," she tells him.

"Fantastic, go find it," he says patronisingly.

She shrugs and moves past him, soon lost in the gloom. He looks around. Torches line the walls. For all their fancy electrical lighting, they have torches and carriage lanterns down here. He takes one off the wall and holds it out before him, proceeding slowly.

Suddenly, the flame "leans" to the side somewhat, as if being blown, but there's no breeze. He notices a crack in the wall where the small amount of smoke is being sucked through. There's something behind here! Carefully he places the torch on the ground away from it and examines the stone. His fingers follow the thin crack all the way to the floor, where cold air seeps out. That's why it drew the flame, it's sucking in warmer air.

It seems like something out of a movie, but he searches for a switch or a stone to press which might open it. All he gets for his trouble is a cut palm when he scraps it against a particularly sharp part. He brings it up to his face. It's not too bad he reckons, and leans down to pick up the torch, bracing his hand against it. Suddenly, he hears a sharp crack and the rock shifts. Quickly he withdrawals his hand and backs up.

A crack forms from where his bloodied hand touched. Great, this really is a movie. He was never a fan of Harry Potter anyways. The stone splits apart and swings inward with a great sucking sound as warm air is pulled into the corridor. He bends down and picks up the torch this time. Bracing for the chill that is already nipping at his face, he forges onward, not even sure why he's doing it to begin with.

-(BREAK)-

Moving out into the hall, Theta sees that the source of the light is around the corner at the end of the hall on their right side. "Wait here."

"No, no, no, no, not doing this."

He sighs in an exaggerated manner. "Can you walk by yourself?"

She pushes his arm supporting her a bit and he removes it from her waist, but keeps it held out in case she needs it for balance. She holds it for just a moment while steadying herself, then strides forward, albeit slowly. He moves ahead of her then keeps pace so she won't fall behind.

The source of light, it seems, is a large patch of glowing mushrooms. There's a place in the hall where stone has crumbled in and that poured in with it now supports a host of plant life mostly in the form of these odd mushroom and some moss. Some very purple moss.

"What are these then?" she asks.

He frowns. "Possibly a hoax of some sort." He moves forward and examines each kind of growing thing. "They're actually real living things," he affirms, "Most likely genetically altered."

She looks past the slant of rubble that fills half the tunnel. "There's stairs!" she tells him in excitement.

He gets up and gazes past too. "So there are," he agrees. They appear to lead upwards and curve right. "Spiral case."

"Can we get to them?"

"Can you climb past this?"

She furrows her brows ever so slightly in determination. "Let's find out."

-(BREAK)-

_Pat- pat- pat- pat_

Their feet make the lightest of sounds as they all slowly climb the stairs, following Clara because she knows the way. They shortly arrive on the third floor and turn left when the hallway splits.

"Bunks beds," Amy deadpans.

Clara sighs and moves forward to claim a lower bunk. The rest follow, frowning all the more at this ridiculous and humiliating situation.

"Do you really think they're dead?" Martha asks, voice wavering nearly imperceptibly.

There's a long pause.

"I don't know," replies Amy finally, "Maybe they are, maybe they aren't, but it'll do no good to sit around thinking about it."

There are murmurs of agreement.

"Let's rest then, just for a while," says Clara.

This time the agreement is silent, but they all settle in. They don't all rest easy though.

Across the hall, an abandoned wardrobe creaks open slowly, and a small creature crawls from out of the shadows.

-(BREAK)-

_Here we are!_

River finds an old wooden hatch that would lead outside. She gives it a shove and chains rattle. Lovely, locked from the outside. She walks back amongst the shelves to find some tools she saw earlier. Grabbing a crowbar and a large hammer, she returns to it.

The wood is old and she manages to shove the crowbar between two planks. Using the hammer, she beats on the hooked end, pushing them apart. Then she yanks it side to side, splintering the wood around the chains, repeating the process all around the center of the hatch. Finally, pounding it into submission with the hammer, the doors give way and she pushes them open. The whole process must've taken half an hour, and she's a bit worn out.

She climbs out, careful of the old steps, and breathes in night air. Particularly unpleasant night air. She holds up a lantern she had acquired. Dead trees surround her, their skeletal branches seeking out the dull moon. They fail to find it however, as it is hidden behind thick clouds. A thick mist hangs about the ground, slithering between withered trucks and short pillars of stone. Gravestones.

River sighs internally, but takes a look at them nonetheless.

_Here lies Daniel Carpenter_

_His profession did little for_

_him in the Halls of the Dead_

Half expecting them to be fake, plastic things, she's surprised to feel real, damp stone under her fingers. Withered remains of what were most likely flowers are beneath the marker and something was scratched onto it, but was very shallow and has worn away into unintelligible scrabbles. She touches the lump of brown, almost black, matted plant matter and it disintegrates instantly.

She moves onto another, but in a row in front of it.

_Here sits what is left of Jebidiah Mallard_

_The Beast found him, no more to be said_

Someone had scratched lines all over the stone, making it hard to read. She skips to another row, now realising that all the rows have nine in each.

_There is nothing here but a stone_

_Jessica Davish crying and alone_

_Since that day she did condone_

_The terrible pain it sent home_

River shakes her head. That doesn't make any sense. She scoffs, it's definitely like that just to rhyme. This whole graveyard is a sham.

She looks about. Seven rows. But... She moves to the end of the yard, where nine very recent looking stones are placed. They are all blank with deep holes in front of them. She furrows her brows, then shakes her head, but that be small part of her brain that likes being silly and superstitious whispers to her. _These are meant for nine of us._ She tells it to sod off.

Suddenly, a howl tears through the air. It's joined by another, and then another. She counts about ten different voices.

She makes for the nearest three, climbs it, and draws the machete. The sound of snarls fill the air as claws click on bare rock.

-(BREAK)-

_She furrows her brows ever so slightly in determination. "Let's find out."_

Theta gives her a sidelong glance, impressed by her strong will and, frankly, her stubbornness, despite the fact that it's somewhat infuriating.

He helps her up onto the pile of of dirt and rubble and she wiggles through. Dirt shifts and little grains fall from the ceiling, making Theta back up to avoid getting it in his eyes. She lands really ridiculously on the other side, but manages to not fall on her face. She's still really dizzy, and accidentally knocks into a very large stone. Rock cracks, more dirt falls, and the whole mound shifts.

Theta stays standing back as the remainder of the tunnel fills in, leaving him stranded on the opposite side. A small rock rolls right into his foot and bounces back softly.

"Dammit!" he yells and he kicks it back towards the dust and debris now blocking his path.

"Theta!" cries Rose from the other side.

"I'm alright Rose, just go and find a way out, alright? I'll see if there's a way out from this side."

"I don't want to leave you down here," she says plaintively.

He bows his head for a moment. Then raises it again. "But you have to, we can't shift this without bringing more down. Just go, I'll be fine."

"But-"

"Just go!" he practically yells in frustration. Why does she have to be so stubborn?

There's a long silence.

"Fine," she says finally, and he hears her moving away.

He turns his back on the blockage and faces the dark. The gentle light of the mushrooms is completely buried on this side and everything has been plunged into darkness.

His ankle decides to remind him that it's injured. He slaps his upper leg and tells it to shut up. Unfortunately, something in the dark also decides to announce its presence by growling. The sound seems to have come from around the nearby corner. His eyes have adjusted to the dark. Whatever it is roars like a lion, and he takes off like a cheetah.

-(BREAK)-

"What is it Donna?" James demands impatiently.

Donna grabs a book off the shelf. Or she tries to. "This book is completely stuck. Can't pull it or push it. It doesn't wiggle at all!" she complains to him.

"Hhmmm," he hums, slipping a pair of thick framed glasses out of his pocket and promptly attaching them to his face. He tries jiggling the book to no avail. Then he moves the ones next to it. There's nothing behind them. He pats the wall behind the stuck book. Nothing. He's about to place them back when an idea strikes him.

"How about-" he says to himself, quickly trailing off as he tosses the books in his hands off to the side. Reaching around the book, he feels where the pages should be. There are none, only a little switch. He flicks it down and the case shudders. Quickly withdrawing his arm, he and Donna watch as it swings slowly open.

"Is this like a haunted house or what?" asks Donna, voice painted over with sarcasm. She's getting tired of the cheesy mystery stuff.

"Well," begins James, "Shall we go down into the staircase that leads into mysterious darkness?"

"No way!"

The sound of heavy footsteps echoing reaches their ears and they turn their attentions to the dark.

Donna remembers what the voice had said about monsters.

"Is there an evil creature coming up the stairs?" James asks no one in particular, his eyes glittering with odd excitement.

Donna slaps his arm.

"Ow!" he exclaims rubbing it.

"Close the darn thing before it gets here!"

Suddenly a roar echoes from the dark and they both freeze as the footsteps increase their pace.

"Uh-oh," he whispers.


	3. Fallen

_A crack forms from where his bloodied hand touched. Great, this really is a movie. He was never a fan of Harry Potter anyways. The stone splits apart and swings inward with a great sucking sound as warm air is pulled into the corridor. He bends down and picks up the torch this time. Bracing for the chill that is already nipping at his face, he forges onward, not even sure why he's doing it to begin with._

The tunnel, originally bare natural rock and dirt, swiftly gives way to carefully detailed stone chambers.

_Crunch Crunch Crunch_

A light layer of frost covers the ground. Just thick enough to make little crunching noises as his boots softly fall over each group of crystals, just thin enough that patches of large stone slabs are visible. The cold bites and nibbles at his exposed skin, but it scarcely bothers him, since the construct itself is too interesting.

It's similar to what might expect the dungeon of a castle might look like. A cross between that and a barrow, empty arches were bodies should lie. Scratch that, do lie. He comes across the first near skeletal form. Preserved skin is exposed the the air, looking like dry, cracked leather. It's clad in ancient iron armaments, a battle axe lying at its side.

His history professor kicks in (yes, he's done "field work") and he can't help but stop to examine it. He doesn't recognise the designs, nothing he seems knowledgable in. Odd. He runs his fingers over it. Definitely iron. He touches the arm. It's very dry and crackles under the pressure from his fingers. He pulls back, frowning. His mum'd be so pleased, him touching dead things. He turns away and sticks the torch out for it to lead the way again, continuing his trek through the dark yet intriguing place.

He pauses under an archway, as his torch has illuminated yet another attention catching thing. An inscription in Greek. History professor to the rescue once more, he can read it.

Αίθουσα των Νεκρών

Taking a little time, he translates it. "Hall of the Dead," he states aloud. Just then a series of loud clinking disturbs the otherwise quiet air and John spins around, caught by surprise by a thing looming in the shadows.

A thing that just so happens to be Rory Williams.

"Bleedin' hell!" John yells as burial jars of many kinds go crashing to the ground.

"Sorry," says Rory sheepishly.

"Did you bring anyone else along?" he asks angrily.

"Nope. Just me," replies Rory.

"Then who is that behind you?"

Rory yelps and jumps towards John before spinning around. At first, slight anger bit at him because he couldn't see anyone. Thinking he just had a laugh at his expense, he was about to turn around and scold John. Then he sees something shuffling in the shadows. Something very wrinkly and disgusting. Something carrying a battle axe.

"Run!" yells John, and they both turn and take off.

The shuffling thing behind them lets out an inhuman growl and begins pursuing them.

-(BREAK)-

_He turns his back on the blockage and faces the dark. The gentle light of the mushrooms is completely buried on this side and everything has been plunged into darkness._

_His ankle decides to remind him that it's injured. He slaps his upper leg and tells it to shut up. Unfortunately, something in the dark also decides to announce its presence by growling. The sound seems to have come from around the nearby corner. His eyes have adjusted to the dark. Whatever it is roars like a lion, and he takes off like a cheetah._

This is oddly exciting and also probably not the best time to be enjoying running. Of course, he's not running exactly the way he'd like to, hurting ankle and all, but fun nonetheless. Never certain why, just is, but spends a lot of time running. Running from dangerous animals, angry mobs, soldiers, and prison guards.

Not that he's ever been arrested for any valid reason, only the most silly of things, it's just that they just always try to take his bow tie. No one may take his bow tie, bow ties are too cool.

_Groarrr!_

Right, running from mysterious creatures. The halls are almost unseeable, and he nearly ploughs into a wall, but turns just in time. The thundering footsteps are fading, but he doesn't slow down. He prays that he is actually losing the thing on his tail. He also hopes that its sense of smell and sight are not too superior.

He spots a small tunnel in which faint light shines from. It's small enough that he could bend double and walk, but it'd be faster just to get down. So, he gets down and crawls for his life on a steep upward slant, looking to the faint light at the end of the tunnel. He should go to heaven for this. Finally he makes it out, gets up, and goes tearing out across some very depressing, dying grass. It crunches dryly beneath his rushing feet.

He hears another roar and the shifting of rock. Whatever it is, it's not going to slow down.

He stops upon reaching an impassible wall. A look left and right forces him to conclude that it must surround the entire perimeter of the available yard around the house. Solid concrete, perfectly smooth. Not a crack, not a crevice. He turns left and resumes running as the heavy footfalls behind him pick up pace again.

It roars again. Why can't it just shut up?

-(BREAK)-

_Suddenly, a howl tears through the air. It's joined by another, and then another. She counts about ten different voices._

_She makes for the nearest three, climbs it, and draws the machete. The sound of snarls fill the air as claws click on bare rock._

Wolves. Large timber wolves actually, fur colour ranging from black to light grey, brown to white. They jump and scratch at the tree trunk, growling and snarling.

River's still sitting in the lower branches, so she climbs higher. Treed with no options, she can only hope they get bored soon, as she doesn't want to sit in this bare thing forever.

With a loud barking sound, what she assumes is the pack leader, steps forward, snapping his teeth at the others to drive them back. Then he turns to the tree, crouches somewhat, and jumps. She scrambles to get away as the beast clamps its jaws around the branch she was just standing on before letting go and falling rather unceremoniously to the ground. The rest of the pack takes this as an example of what to do next, and take turns leaping impossible heights to try and reach her, stripping off smaller branches with teeth and claws.

She can't risk climbing much higher, the branches are too thin. With the way they jump, she doesn't want to feel the way they bite. One grabs hold of a nearby branch and doesn't let go immediately so she takes the chance of swinging her machete at it and manages to keep her balance. It whines and lets go, falling back to the ground before staggering to its feet, trailing blood from the new wound on its muzzle.

She smirks at its retreating form, before being forced to retreat farther up herself as they clear an easier path up the tree. The dangerously thin branches creak under her weight.

_Groarrr!_

The wolves stop their assault.

She scans the area and watches as the mysterious "Caretaker" rounds the corner, stopping at the entrance of the graveyard.

The wolves turn to face him and slowly advance.

He takes two steps back and peers around the corner. Laughing, he steps forward again. "Come and get me then!" he yells at the dogs.

River shakes her head. Brave to the point of idiocy, this one. Jumping down mysterious pits, challenging wolves to eat him alive. What does he hope-

He takes off in their direction and they charge each other. Using a low-lying stone as a step board, he launches himself up and over the ones leading the pack, but another jumps to meet him, colliding midair, and canceling out each other's forward momentum and falling to the ground.

Just then, a giant... _thing_ rounds the corner.

It spots the wolves. _GROARRRR!_

Multiple of them immediately tuck their tails between their hind legs and flee in the opposite direction. Others attack it. The one that collided with the Caretaker, however, pins him to the ground.

Seeing an opportunity to escape, she slides somewhat gracefully from the tree while everything else is distracted with everything else and plots a mental course back to the basement.

Suddenly the man under the dog cries out in pain and she turns to look.

The beast has clamped its jaws around his upper arm and he's using its insistence on hanging on to keep its face away from his. It's a losing battle though. Blood has soaked his sleeve and his face is pale.

_Snap!_

The dog whistles through its nose as the joint on its front leg is broken, but doesn't back off. He can't reach around to break its other leg, so he's still stuck under its weight.

She makes a split second decision. Rushing forward, she brings the machete down on the back of its neck, severing its spinal column. It lets loose a death cry, releasing his arm, and falls on top of him. With a grunt, he rolls it off and struggles to his feet.

Just then, a dead wolf goes flying over their heads with a roar of triumph from the strange monster behind them. Without turning to look at it, they both take off.

"What is that?" River asks around pants. The running is getting exhausting.

"No idea!" he calls back.

"Where did it come from?"

"No idea!"

She turns and rushes down the chute into the cellar and he follows.

"Why was it following you?" she asks, leading him deeper into the cellar.

"Long story," he replies, trying to catch his breath.

They fall into silence as River realises she took a wrong turn, landing them both in a narrow hall. Stone shifts behind her as she turns to backtrack. He turns with her and they both watch as the their way back is sealed off, plunging them both into darkness.

"On the bright side," River starts, "That thing shouldn't be able to follow us."

He shakes his head. "A wall of stone isn't going to stop that thing."

She sighs. "Of course it won't."

-(BREAK)-

_"Is there an evil creature coming up the stairs?" James asks no one in particular, his eyes glittering with odd excitement._

_Donna slaps his arm._

_"Ow!" he exclaims, rubbing it._

_"Close the darn thing before it gets here!"_

_Suddenly a roar echoes from the dark and they both freeze as the footsteps increase their pace._

_"Uh-oh," he whispers._

Just as he reaches for the switch to close the bookcase, Donna cries out.

"Wait!"

He freezes as a bedraggled Rose comes running up the stairs.

"Rose Tyler!" he states excitedly.

Unfortunately, in her dizzy state, she can't seem to slow down and crashes right into him.

He staggers but manages to remain upright while steadying her. "What's wrong then?"

"Ishim rally terd. Dish too."

"What?"

"'m really tired," she annunciates. "Dizzy too."

"Come on you," he replies, seemingly unconcerned about how heavily she is leaning on him, "Off to bed!"

"That was anticlimactic," mumbles Donna as he scoops her up upon finding that she can't really walk on her own.

He smiles. "Need an anti-climax every now and then! Good for the blood!"

Donna closes the bookcase door and they both climb the steps to the next floor.

Just then the whole house shifts like an earthquake has hit, and they cling to the rails for dear life, James almost falls backwards down the stairs. There's a cracking of rock and splintering of wood as a section of the wall across from them shifts and sags, like the whole bottom floor has been torn away.

Rose wiggles to get put down, so he puts her down, holding her until she's steady.

"Let's investigate downstairs," says John, "Allons-y!"

They very quickly reach the ground floor to discover the bricks, which had taken the place of where a door should be, are damaged and falling out if place. Still standing, but a good solid whack or two could knock it all down. The wood of the walls is splintered and electrical lights on the walls have gone out. The floorboards are sticking up at haphazard angles, like the floor was shoved up.

"What happened?" asks Donna to no one in particular.

"No idea," whispers James. Then he climbs over the rubble to investigate.

Rose goes to approach.

"Watch where you step!" calls James.

She cautiously steps into the midst of the wreckage, the ruined boards groaning under her weight. She looks down through a gaping hole in the floor and instantly freezes.

Donna sees her go stiff. "What's wrong Rose?" she asks before moving forward.

"Stay back!" she practically yells.

James spins away from the brick wall to face her. "Rose?"

"There's nothing under these. The floor's fallen away," she tells them. The floorboards look too old to be sturdy enough on their own.

The wood under her feet has nothing supporting it and could collapse any second. When they realise this, both Donna and James' eyes widen.

James taps his feet lightly on the floor. A hollow sound responds. Donna does the same and finds that the section she is standing on is solid.

"Does it look like a long fall?" he asks Rose, trying to keep his voice light.

"There's some light, but I really can't tell how far."

He swears under his breath. "Alright, just... try to move slowly towards Donna, yeah?"

"Yeah," she replies, voice barely heard. She's still a bit dizzy.

Ever so carefully, she raises one foot and moves it forward, gingerly testing the ground before placing her weight on it. James waits to move until she's on safe ground. Agonising seconds pass as she slowly makes her way across the floor and finally, _finally_, she's standing beside Donna.

He begins moving to follow her. The boards creak, but he continues on. He hears rushing footsteps and assumes the group from upstairs has joined them, but he pays them no attention, keeping focused on the task at hand.

Testing his weight on a spot and finding it sturdy enough, he places his foot down. Again and again, he carefully coordinates each step until he's faced with the problem of the large hole Rose originally looked down. He decides to move farther away before passing it, so he scoots sideways a bit before moving on, placing his foot on a clear space where none of the wood has split. Then that very spot cracks, and next thing he knows, he's falling through them.

-(BREAK)-

_Across the hall, an abandoned wardrobe creaks open slowly, and a small creature crawls from out of the shadows._

With a roar and a great crashing sound, the whole house shifts slightly and the three women are startled from their light rest. They exchange looks with each other before leaping up and going running from the room to investigate.

Rushing down the stairs, none of them notice the door across the hall has been opened. They don't notice as the small creature scampers across the hall and into the bedroom, taking up residence in one of the beds, waiting for prey to return.

The three manage to make it downstairs in time to see James slowly making his way across the floor. Rose motions that they stay back, so the three camp at the top of the stairs, watching the scene play out. They watch in earnest as James edges around the hole in the floor. Suddenly, the floor cracks and he begins to fall through it.

Clara gasps in shock and Rose cries out his name.


	4. Don't Want to be a Shadow

_They fall into silence as River realises she took a wrong turn, landing them both in a narrow hall. Stone shifts behind her as she turns to backtrack. He turns with her and they both watch as the their way back is sealed off, plunging them both into darkness._

_"On the bright side," River starts, "That thing shouldn't be able to follow us."_

_He shakes his head. "A wall of stone isn't going to stop that thing."_

_She sighs. "Of course it won't."_

Suddenly, a dim light illuminates the room. There is no source, the very air seems to be giving off a faint glow.

"Anyone there?" calls River. She's shushed by the Caretaker. She counters his offense with a glare.

Eventually, he begins walking forward and she follows, grumbling.

It takes them seven strides to reach an empty room. Somehow they couldn't see it until they were there despite the illumination, like it obscures as much as it reveals. Anyways, room. Small, very boxy, ten by ten feet maybe? Little bigger?

"For such a small room, it sure is interesting," says River.

Unfortunately, the pain in his arm finally hits him and he winces, gritting his teeth to avoid making a noise but failing. She turns to find him staring at his crimson stained sleeve and clutching it forcefully, like he's trying to crush the pain out of it.

Deciding she may as well help, she moves forward and tries to take his jacket off. He instantly recoils.

"I didn't save your sorry backside for you to bleed to death," she scolds, "Let me help."

He relaxes and she gets him to release his arm long enough to slide the ridiculously endearing tweed coat off his shoulders. She then rolls the sleeve of his Oxford up, causing him to sharply intake a breath. Ignoring his reaction, she takes a rag from her pocket she always carries (thankfully she hasn't needed to wipe anything with it yet) and bandages his arm best she can.

"I'll be needing your belt," she tells him.

He cringes, but nods, so she carefully removes it and wraps it tightly around his upper arm, berating him when he whines.

"Put pressure on it," she orders and he complies. She turns away from him to examine the interesting wall.

Said wall, just to the right of their exit from the hall is a wretchedly bleached colour and covered in unintelligible scribbles and symbols. Hateful words are carved into the stone in many different handwritings.

Then they spot an odd dark blur on the wall near the ground. Suddenly not feeling his injury as curiosity takes over, he moves forward to mimic its position. It seems like a person on their knees perhaps. Weeping. He'd put his hands up to cover his face to completely copy the blur, but is wary of his arm, which is slowly stopping its bleeding.

River is looking over the words. Many of them have been roughly scratched in, but one is clear, precise, and chiseled in with care.

_You will burn in hell for this Jessica!_

River thinks back unbidden to a certain gravestone she saw.

_Jessica Davish crying and alone_

"Y'know," the Caretaker begins suddenly, but leaves the word hanging for a few moments before continuing. "At Hiroshima towards the end of World War II, after they dropped the bomb, blew out everything, and destroyed hundreds of thousands of innocent lives; people looked into those ruins and found many, many terrible things." He traces the outline of the image with his eyes. "But what I found to be the worst thing of all, oddly, was the shadows. There were plenty of miserable wounded, their skin literally melting off, the fires, and all that is horrid, but I thought the shadows were the worst."

River looks confused. "What are you talking about?" she demands.

He stands up to face her.

"Even though the bomb detonated almost six-hundred metres above the city, it still generated enough heat to literally disintegrate human beings below it. Their bodies protected the stone behind them from the brunt of the blast, leaving a sort of... shadow. They were destroyed in a single moment. Nothing left of them except their blurred outline on whatever happened to be behind or below them. Could you imagine? Something so devastating as to remove any sentient being in a flash of light and leave nothing but an imprint on a meaningless, scarred backdrop."

River shakes her head. "What does that have to do with anything?"

He gesturing to all parts of the wall while clarifying. "Look. See how the wall in the hall is dark and normal and the wall in the room is bleached?" He waits for her to nod. He then points to the blurred figure and speaks with an even voice.

"Shadow."

-(BREAK)-

_Rory yelps and jumps towards John before spinning around. At first, slight anger bit at him because he couldn't see anyone. Thinking he just had a laugh at his expense, he was about to turn around and scold John. Then he sees something shuffling in the shadows. Something very wrinkly and disgusting. Something carrying a battle axe._

_"Run!" yells John, and they both turn and take off._

_The shuffling thing behind them lets out an inhuman growl and begins pursuing them._

"What is that?" cries Rory as they flee deeper into the corridors which quickly turn into a maze.

"How should I know?" John yells back.

Another one steps out of the dark in front of them and John stops abruptly, Rory crashing into him. He grabs Rory's sleeve as he changes direction to get him moving again.

The cold bothers neither of them as they scramble to escape the odd but definitely dangerous things intent upon their doom, not even slowing when John throws down his torch on a large pool of some form of oil that is pooling in a spot on the ground, igniting the lot and creating a barrier between them and their pursuers. Not the end of their troubles though, as there seem to be an infinite number of them coming from every direction, and after standing so near that inferno, both of them are sweating from stress, action, and heat.

Light from the torch lost, they stumble blindly around the passages until something perplexing somehow stops them.

A soothing voice whispers out from the dark, its existence calling them closer. "This way," it says, barely making a sound. Both men stop. It hums and hisses, the way one would think a serpent might, extending certain words and letters. Or maybe a powerful dragon, since it successfully manages that and a deep baritone, sounding ancient and knowing. Most likely more than just sounding ancient and knowing.

"Come, this way," it beckons.

The space the noise is coming from is dark.

John sneers at the voice. "No."

"I offer you safe passage," it hums alluringly. Rory seems to be leaning unwittingly towards the sound and John smacks his arm hard, effectively snapping him out of it.

They hear the shuffling of dried out feet over stone, the garbling of an ancient tongue.

It hums softly in a contemplative manner. "If you do not trust me, then I will leave you to the mercy of the dead. Believe this though, they have none."

Rory is fidgeting. "How much worse can it get?" he whines.

John scowls. "A lot worse, I'd imagine."

There's a clank as a monster rounds the corner and they both duck into the space where the voice came from and quickly find it's nothing more than a glorified hidey-hole, barely enough to accommodate them both.

"We're cornered now!" John hisses.

A throaty growl issues from the thing as it passes by, or at least they think it's passing by, but it stops, searching the glorified hidey-hole opposite theirs. Then it turns to search the one they're hiding in and both men cringe as their location is about to be discovered. However, a shadow slinks forward and rears up in front of them, effectively hiding them from view.

A pause. Shuffling is heard as the thing moves off, and the dark form falls back to the floor before beginning to slither away.

"This way," it tells them, voice still impossibly deep and lethargic for its size.

Both men exchange undefinable glances, wipe the sweat from their brows, and follow the serpent-like thing.

-(BREAK)-

_The three manage to make it downstairs in time to see James slowly making his way across the floor. Rose motions that they stay back, so the three camp at the top of the stairs, watching the scene play out. They watch in earnest as James edges around the hole in the floor. Suddenly, the floor cracks and he begins to fall through it._

_Clara gasps in shock and Rose cries out his name._

"James!" Rose dives forward, sliding on her belly and Donna grabs her ankles just to feel like she's helping somehow.

She finds another, smaller hole and peers through the boards. "James!" she cries.

No response.

"James, if you can hear me make some kind of noise!"

Silence.

"How far was that fall?" asks Amy suddenly.

Rose shakes her head before shimmying back towards the safe part of the floor. She turns to them.

"I don't know."

Clara stomps her foot in frustration for lack of anything else to do. "I am done! Done with this!"

"You and me both," Donna huffs.

"Where are the other four? That River woman or John or Rory or the bloke with the bow tie?" asks Martha.

"Basement I think," replies Rose.

"Should we find them?" asks Martha.

"They could all be dead already," Amy replies.

Rose shakes her head. "I just... I just need a good kip." Despite her training and practice in the field, the loss of a comrade has always affected her badly. She furrows her brows. They're comrades now? After a moment of thinking, she reckons they all are. Well, most of them. They seem sincere, and Rose is good at getting a read on people.

They climb the stairs, making it to the third floor.

Rose is about to take the second bottom bunk from the wall when she spots something interesting on the third bottom bunk. She moves over and crouches to examine it better. A wolf, sitting back on its haunches, head thrown back in a howl, has been scratched into the footboard.

"I think I'll take this one," she claims as she flops down onto it and rolls over on her side. She's always loved wolves.

Amy drops onto another bottom bunk and both Donna and Clara leave the room. Going across the hall to explore, they pass by the now damaged window and into the other half of the floor. The first door on the right reveals a cozy office space. An antique desk and chair dominate the room and books are loosely stacked around the floor. A couch sits across from the desk, up against the wall, a stack of old magazines taking up a whole cushion.

Donna flops onto the free cushion as Clara sifts around for a book, hoping to take her mind off things, a proper adventure to take her away from this awful place for a while. She treats them roughly in her frustration. Finally she decides on one and moves over to the chair, checking for traps and then, after finding none, she sits down to read.

Clara's eyes snap open, did she really fall asleep? Wow. Might as well go lie down. She places her book on the desk pages down to keep her place and rises. Donna must've gotten bored of the magazines, since she's nowhere to be found. Leaving the study, she goes to find an open bed.

Upon reaching the room, she finds no one is there. _Maybe they went to look for the others,_ She thinks.

She decides upon taking the bed to the left of Rose's, the one directly in front of the door. Bottom bunk of course, no point in climbing.

-(BREAK)-

Slinky wants his prey to come back. Slinky didn't slink in here to wait around for nothing. _Patience Slinky,_ he tells himself. The humans will come back eventually.

The door creaks open. _Well, speak of the devil._


End file.
